"Rena, come home! NOW!" My father's voice shattered the quiet of the phone like a clap of thunder just before a storm broke. I tightened my grip on the device and hung up, refusing to respond. Outside, the drizzle had begun as a light tease against the city streets, but within moments it transformed into a relentless downpour, washing the world in sheets of rain.
I stood on the empty road, the dim glow of distant streetlights glimmering against wet pavement, searching desperately for shelter. I sprinted. The rain drummed against my leather jacket and soaked through to the thin layers beneath.
Each inhale tasted of wet concrete and ozone but I pushed my legs harder, sprinting toward the distant warm glow that promised refuge. As I neared the café, the wind gusted harder, tugging at my jacket and threatening to knock me off course, but I pushed through, feeling a strange exhilaration in the chaos.
Finally, the café's warm glow enveloped me. I threw open the door, gasping from the exertion and cold. The storm roared outside before being silenced by the door that shut behind me. The scent of fresh bread and sugar greeted me immediately and I scanned the place carefully. It was seemingly empty, only two girls occupying a table to the side and an empty till. They paid no mind to me, arguing over the sound of the rain as I stood at the till, waiting for someone from the back to appear. Soft lights dangled above the counters, illuminating shelves lined with carefully arranged pastries and loaves, while potted plants softened the edges of the otherwise clean, minimalist space.
I turned my back to the cozy interior to peer out at the storm, watching the rain whip violently against the pavement. Then, a soft, melodic voice drew my attention.
"Welcome. What can I get you, ma'am?"
I turned toward the voice. My eyes met hers- light hazel and luminous, the kind that seemed to hold sunlight. Her gaze scanned over my face, then dropped to my dripping clothes before she smiled. She tilted her head slightly, her gaze softening as they trailed down my torso. My jacket barely covered the wet white shirt clinging to my toned stomach and sports bra and I cleared my throat instinctively, snapping her attention back to my now-red face.
"Here, this will help." Her hair fell in caramel, glossy curls to her shoulders, each strand catching the bakery's warm light as she bent down to a cabinet and pulled something out. She leaned forward to place a heat pack between my hands, our fingers brushing. My fingers tingled where hers had lingered.
I cleared my throat, murmuring thanks, and let my eyes wander to the menu plastered on the wall above her head. "I'll just get a macchiato and a croissant please," I smiled.
"And I'm assuming you'll be having that here?" she let out a chuckle as I awkwardly sighed.
"No actually I prefer my croissants drenched in rain." I replied light-heartedly. She let out a laugh, walking towards the baked goods and placing a croissant onto the plate. She paused as her eyes met mine again before handing me the plate.
"I'll bring the macchiato to your table. Enjoy," she said softly, and the word carried more weight than it should have.
I thanked her, picking it up and moving towards a table in the corner, letting the chair scrape lightly against the polished floor. The steam from the croissant display mingled with the warmth of the café, a gentle contrast to the chill of rain still dripping from my jacket.
"You can't break up with me over that!" a shrill cry stabbed through the air. I looked up at the two women arguing, realising they were a couple.
The one with her back turned to me had hair just above her ears and a hat worn backwards, seeming panicked whereas her gf gave the opposite impression. She was neat, sat laid back as her partner screamed. Her eyes were low, uninterested and dark with emptiness. Her gaze stretched sleek and fox-like, lashes framing a darkness that glittered with restrained fury. Her hair was pin-straight and black, a sheet of silk that poured past her waist, catching the light like a blade. Her full lips were drawn tight, teeth sinking in- not with hesitation, but with frustration that trembled against the thin barrier of control.
"After everything?Why?" she protested, her lungs popping out of her neck as she started to rise from her chair.
"Jay, sit down, you're embarrassing yourself." she replied harshly. Her eyes met mine for a split second before they shifted back to Jay who sat down swiftly.
Suddenly, movement pulled my attention away from them.
"On the house," the girl from earlier said, sliding a steaming cup onto my table. Her eyes grazed over me, lingering just long enough to send a charge through the air. The corner of her mouth curved in a faint, knowing smile.
"Thanks," I replied, fingers curling around the warmth of the mug.
"I'm Zara," she offered, leaning a little closer, voice soft but carrying over the hum of the rain. "And you are...?"
"Rena," I answered, watching the way her gaze held mine like she'd already tried to guess my name.
"Rena," she repeated, tasting my name with a quiet confidence. "You look frozen. I've got some spare clothes in the back if you want to change after I close. Might even suit you better than what you've got on." Her eyes swept over me, playful, deliberate.
"You sizing me up?" I teased.
"Maybe," she said with a slow shrug. "Or maybe I just like seeing who walks into my café on nights like this."
I caught the suggestive tilt in her tone and let a small smile betray my understanding. "Lucky me, then."
"Maybe lucky me," she shot back, flashing a quick grin before turning away to start cleaning the counter.
When I tilted the cup, dark ink on the tissue under it caught my eye- her number scrawled in neat, confident handwriting. Before I could react, a chair scraped sharply against the floor.
"Get home yourself. I'm not driving an ungrateful bitch," Jay's voice barked.
"In this rain?!" the woman exclaimed, standing as Jay stormed toward the door. She didn't look back, her exit leaving a vacuum of awkward silence in her wake. The woman shifted uncomfortably, glancing around the café as if searching for an escape. I offered a tight-lipped smile over the rim of my cup, a small attempt to cut the tension. She didn't return it. Instead she let out a soft, irritated sound, and stepped outside under the narrow awning, pulling at her dead phone with visible frustration.
Zara returned just then, wiping my table with a slow, deliberate motion. Her apron was gone, replaced by a low-cut top that revealed the elegant line of her collarbones, the light catching faint drops of water on her skin. She leaned in, close enough for me to catch the faint scent of roasted coffee.
"Closing time," she murmured, voice dipping near my ear. "Still want those clothes?"
Her face hovered near mine, a smirk tugging at her lips.
"Lead the way," I said, standing. I easily towered over her as she let a finger trail along the hem of my damp shirt, a teasing graze that sent a faint shiver through me before she turned toward the back room.
I took a step to follow but paused, hand on the doorframe. She wanted me to follow her. I could, and for a second I almost did but my eyes betrayed me, looking outside to see the woman from earlier, still under the awning, staring at the rain like she was weighing whether to risk running through the storm. I hesitated, gripping the frame before looking around, my eyes setting on a row of hooks with a coat I assumed to be Zara's and an umbrella leaning against the till opposite it. With a small sigh, I grabbed Zara's umbrella, walking towards the exit before pushing into the cold.
The night greeted me with a slap of wind and the relentless hiss of rain. The downpour was heavy, a plate of water that blurred the streetlights and turned the pavement slick and black. The sky sagged with clouds, draining what little light remained into a heavy, metallic gloom.
She stiffened when I opened the umbrella beside her, startled by my sudden presence.
I moved toward her, each step muffled by the storm, the umbrella held low at my side. The closer I came, the more I felt the quiet pull of her presence- a tension threaded through the chaos, as if the storm itself narrowed around the space between us. I could see the faint tremor of breath in her shoulders as she watched me cautiously. I stopped half a step away and lifted the umbrella, angling it over her head until the rain broke across its canopy with a hollow patter.
The moment the shadow of shelter touched her, she looked up. Then our eyes met- hers dark and sharp, catching the dim streetlight, mine locked in an unspoken dare. Neither of us looked away.
Rain drummed above us, a steady percussion that only sharpened the silence. The world beyond blurred into streaks of silver and black, but inside the small circle of dry air, everything felt unnervingly still- just her gaze, steady and unflinching, and the subtle warmth of breath shared in the cold.